


a conversation with death

by INMH



Series: hc_bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [39]
Category: The Dark Pictures: Little Hope (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Discussion of canonical character death, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28105647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: “Tell me why you’re here, Anthony.”
Series: hc_bingo fanfiction fills 2020 [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789369
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	a conversation with death

“Tell me why you’re here, Anthony.”  
  
Anthony sits mute, hands folded on his lap and eyes unfocused.  
  
“Is there anything you want to talk about?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Any questions I can answer, perhaps?”  
  
Silence.  
  
“I’d like to help.”  
  
Silence. It stretches on unbroken this time.  
  
Anthony shifts slightly, blinking sluggishly and flexing his fingers; he looks for all the world like a statue slowly coming to life.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“Why,” Anthony whispers. “Why?”  
  
A pause, a moment of consideration. “I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific, Anthony. The big ‘why’ will require far more time than what I’ve been granted with you for now.”  
  
Anthony doesn’t seem to grasp the implications of this statement, probably because he is still very much dazed and distracted by grief.  
  
“Why did this happen?” he elaborates, voice scratchy and weak from pain and disuse. “Why did they _all_ die? Why did I survive?”  
  
“Ah- well, in a literal sense, it happened because a doll fell onto a lit burner. In a broader sense, it happened because terrible things happen as a course of nature; if one is lucky, one avoids the worst outcomes. If one is not, one ends up a tragic story on the news for others to shudder at and feel gratitude for their own good fortunes.” A light shrug. “Such is the way of the world.”  
  
Anthony shuts his eyes, pain flashing across his features. That the world is a cruel and chaotic place, and that sometimes _we_ are the tragic story in the newspaper is never an easy concept to internalize.  
  
“As for your second question, they all died because they were unfortunately positioned in the house: Tanya on the balcony, your mother in the bathroom, and your brother in the attic. Your father had the poor fortune to be deeply asleep-” _Drunk_ , but he doesn’t say it, “-and could not escape quickly enough. Megan… I fear she simply panicked and went a wrong way.”  
  
A tear slips down Anthony’s cheek.  
  
“As for the question of your survival, there is no particularly special meaning in it: You simply happened to be well-positioned and were not trapped by the fire. You also didn’t make it far enough into the building during your escape attempt that the police could not rescue you, which swayed the odds of survival well in your favor.”  
  
Anthony opens his eyes again, tear-streaks reflecting in the dim light of the room.  
  
“Anything else?”  
  
Silence.  
  
He ventures cautiously: “I know you feel immense shame that you have survived whilst your family has perished, Anthony. Such feelings are not unusual in the slightest. But they are ultimately unproductive, as you have done nothing wrong and have nothing to apologize for. Millions of people across the planet suffer unspeakable tragedies every day, and they ask the same question: Why me? Why must I suffer this way?”  
  
The brutal truth is that millions of tiny, seemingly innocent choices are what bring these tragedies about; but this will provide no comfort, only more guilt and paranoia about future choices.  
  
That is not the point of this session; the evils of the day are sufficient.  
  
“It is simply the way of the world that accidents happen. Your sister did not intend to set the house on fire, your parents and other siblings did not intend to allow you to watch them die. You did not intend for anyone to die: You simply witnessed a horrific event that has awoken grief and pain in you. Your questions are typical of those who have suffered, because those who have suffered so deeply seek to understand why. They feel that in understanding the mistakes of the past, they might avoid further mistakes and agony in the future.”  
  
Anthony does not speak.  
  
“Do you have any other questions for me?”  
  
The young man shakes his head, cheeks still wet and gaze still heavy.  
  
“Then I’m afraid we must part: I have said all that I can say, and you have a funeral to attend.”  
  
Anthony stares for a long moment, and seems to rally slightly. Perhaps it is the reminder of the funeral he has yet to attend, or maybe it is because he is being called upon to move; it could as easily be confusion that this meeting of theirs has ended so quickly after what feels like only a few minutes.  
  
But eventually, Anthony slowly rises from his seat. “Can I… Make another appointment? For later?”  
  
Yes, definitely confusion: Therapists generally do not talk for five minutes and then send their patients on their not-so-merry way.  
  
But then, this is not a therapy session.  
  
Anthony doesn’t know this, though.  
  
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible at this juncture, as I have elsewhere I must be in times to come. Regardless, I’m quite certain that we’ll see each other again- at least once, anyways.”  
  
Anthony frowns, confusion with the beginnings of comprehension brewing behind his eyes. But he maintains eye-contact as he nods and slowly opens the door, not breaking it until he has actually left the room.  
  
The Curator leans back in his chair and laces his fingers together.  
  
“It was nothing personal, I’m afraid,” he sighs.  
  
Anthony doesn’t see it that way, though, and the Curator lifts his head to gaze down the river of the young man’s life to see what’s to come: Though there are some potential rifts and shifts here and there, the most likely of all outcomes will lead to Anthony blaming supernatural forces for the death of his family.  
  
Things will be interesting, but the boy- then a man- will find more suffering.  
 _  
Or not._  
 _  
But that’s up to him, and the choices he makes._  
  
The Curator eyes a particular book on his shelf, one with a crude poppet sketched on the spine, and leaves it be.  
  
Those choices won’t come for a good, long time.  
  
For now, he hopes at least Anthony might have found a measure of comfort in this first- and not last- meeting of theirs.  
  
-End


End file.
